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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768468">Count the Saved</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricwritesprose/pseuds/lyricwritesprose'>lyricwritesprose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kisses Bingo [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Can be romantic or platonic, Gen, Kissing Bingo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 06:09:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>323</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25768468</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricwritesprose/pseuds/lyricwritesprose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Martha doesn't think she did a good job.  Mickey reminds her of things that she herself said.  Written for the prompt "shoulder bump."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kisses Bingo [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1867150</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Kisses Bingo</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Count the Saved</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Hey,” Mickey said quietly, sitting down beside Martha.  “You did good last night.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martha looked out over the American field, calm in the autumn morning.  Troubleshooting took them all over the world, these days.  Including small American towns with perfectly harmless Halloween traditions that weren’t perfectly harmless.  She shook her head slightly.  “I should have caught on faster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not sure how you could have,” Mickey said.  “I mean, who expects </span>
  <em>
    <span>two</span>
  </em>
  <span> aliens?  One, sure.  But two?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People died,” Martha said softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.  They did.  But less people died than there would have if we hadn’t been here, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> people are going to die next Halloween, and that’s worth something, Martha.  That matters.”  Mickey bumped her shoulder lightly with his own.  “Hey.  You were the one telling me, last time.  Count the saved.  You can’t just count the losses, you’ve got to count the saved, or else you’ll end up going mental.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I did say that,” Martha admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know you did.  And you were </span>
  <em>
    <span>right.</span>
  </em>
  <span>  Repeat after me: I did good back there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could have done better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bzzzt!  Nope!  I said: repeat after me, I did good back there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martha thought of getting annoyed with him.  But he was right—she had been right—you had to include partial wins in your tally.  Everything was a partial win.  It was very, very rare to have a day when everyone lived.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did good back there,” she said reluctantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn right you did.  And so did I.”  Mickey stood up, offered her a hand to get off the low stone wall.  “Time to be moving on, Dr. Jones.”  His tone was light, as it always was when he called her Dr. Jones rather than Martha, but she thought he was trying to remind her of something.  Remind her of her own skills, her own competence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe you’re right, Mr. Smith,” Martha said, matching his tone, and took his hand.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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